Orijinal sözler
CSTranslation not available yet. Showing the original lyrics.
Selre bið æghwæm
þæt he his freond wrece, þonne he fela murne.
Aris, rices weard, uton hraþe feron
Grendles magan gang sceawigan
Ic hit þe gehate: no he on helm losaþ
Ne on foldan fæþm, ne on fyrgen-holt,
Ne on gyfenes grund, ga þær he wille.
ac he hraþe wolde
Grendle forgyldan guð-ræsa fela,
ðara þe he geworhte to West-Denum
Oftor micle ðonne on ænne sið
þonne he Hroðgares heorð-geneatas
sloh on sweofote. He him þæs lean forgeald,
ond hine þa heafde becearf.
